Annis in Camelot
by JJuna
Summary: A perceptive woman shakes things up in Camelot, leading to unexpected consequences. Will Merlin's magic be revealed, and can his glorious destiny be preserved after all?
1. Chapter 1

The dawn of a new age and an era which will never be forgotten. The time of... _Albion_.

I forgave him.

"There is something about you, Arthur Pendragon," I said. "Something which gives me hope for us all."

All my life, I had been surrounded by men who craved power and would kill for it, without hesitation or remorse. It was a relief to discover that perhaps the greatest warrior of them all, the new king of Camelot, placed a higher value on peace. A man not afraid to admit his mistakes and learn from them. Already, I saw the seeds of greatness in him.

I had agreed to leave by nightfall, but later he came back to invite me to spend a few days in Camelot. After the bitterness of my parting from his sister, his friendly overtures were welcome.

"Your Highness," he said, "I would be honoured if you would consent to grace us with your presence in Camelot. I wish to seal our new alliance with a treaty, and to make amends to you in any way possible."

 **...**

The journey to Camelot took longer than expected. I had sent the bulk of my army home and kept only a small contingent of knights with me, as I planned to negotiate the new treaty personally. However, the huge number of Arthur's men to be moved meant that progress was slow. At last the castle came into view. I had seen it before, but I could never tire of its beauty. Grand and picturesque, with circular towers and vaulting spires, it was a breathtaking sight. Its design was both richly ornamental and intensely practical. It was rumoured to be impenetrable, and no mortal army had ever succeeded in conquering the citadel.

As we entered the lower town, cheering crowds thronged the streets. The relief and joy at the avoidance of war was palpable, as was the genuine affection and respect of the people for Arthur, without a trace of the fear that his father had inspired. He took time to stop and talk to them, accepting their congratulations and well wishes. My impression of him was growing ever more favourable and was enhanced even further when we arrived within the castle and I met the young woman he had designated to serve me.

Her name was Guinevere, and I took an instant liking to her. She was neither subservient nor presumptious, but carried herself with an air of quiet confidence and common sense. Arthur confided the situation to her in an undertone, and her assurance and familiarity with him were telling. Even more interesting to me was the way he looked at her. However hard he tried to disguise it, the signs of love were unmistakable.

Guinevere showed me to my chambers, and after a brief rest, I returned to Arthur, as I was eager to commence the negotiations as soon as possible.

He promised to call a full council meeting the following day, but we both wished our initial discussions to be in private. He took me to his solar, so that we could talk without fear of disturbance. His plans were disrupted when a knight, whom I later learned to be Sir Leon, burst into the room and announced that a body had been found close to the castle walls. Arthur apologised profusely, promised to return almost immediately and suggested that in the meantime, I might like to view his collection of family portraits, which were concealed behind a screen. Then he left.

Initially, I felt reluctant to view objects of such an intimate nature that he kept them hidden, but as time wore on, boredom and curiosity got the better of me. I noticed the portrait of Uther first. Dressed in the full regalia of kingship, he presented an imposing figure. He seemed to stare straight at the viewer, and the artist had captured his overbearing manner. By contrast, the expression of Ygraine was sweet and loving, her gentle smile infusing the portrait with light and warmth. She was a beautiful woman, but the most appealing picture in the collection was of Arthur himself as a young boy. Golden haired and blue eyed, with the face of an angel, he was the most adorable child I had ever seen.

A sharp pain assailed me, as brutal as a knife through the ribs. Familiar but deadly, the sense of loss never went away. I had yearned for motherhood but had never succeeded in carrying a child to term. As miscarriage had followed miscarriage, the sweetness of a suckling baby at my breast had forever been denied me. As I gazed longingly at the image of this beautiful child, it was a bitter reminder of what I had missed.

Aside from my own grief, this barrenness had brought further problems in its wake – the question of the succession. For some time past, it had been settled on my husband's younger brother; a courageous man and worthy heir, but he had recently been killed in battle. There were no other obvious candidates. Two distant cousins, the one weak and chinless and the other a confirmed drunkard, had immediately laid a claim to the throne upon my husband's death. I had quashed their pretensions without any difficulty, but I knew that in order to maintain stability, it was imperative to find a successor, and soon.

These gloomy reflections were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. I glanced at the door, and a man entered. He strode into the centre of the room and looked about him. Tall, dark-haired and of middle age, he carried himself with an air of arrogance. What struck me particularly were the hardened lines around his mouth and the expression of cynicism in his eyes. He had not seen me and made towards the king's desk. He rifled quickly through the pile of papers, tossed them back contemptuously and tried to open the drawers. Finding them locked, he cursed under his breath and drew out a small knife from his pocket.

I judged it time to make my presence known and cleared my throat loudly. If I had any doubt of his guilty intent, his reaction confirmed it. He jumped, and his expression of dismay was almost comical. When he realized who I was, he was momentarily deprived of speech. Eventually, he recovered himself, smiled ingratiatingly at me and approached.

"Queen Annis, what an unexpected pleasure!" he purred, as smoothly as the slippery courtier I imagined him to be.

"You have the advantage of me, Sir," I returned, lifting my brows in enquiry.

"My sincere apologies, Your Highness. I am Lord Agravaine, the king's uncle. I was searching for something urgently on his behalf."

I inclined my head graciously. "Of course, My Lord. The king will return shortly. Perhaps he has a key to aid you in your search?"

He looked so flummoxed that I could have laughed outright in his face.

"Ah, that won't be necessary, Your Highness," he managed finally. "I will inconvenience you no longer and return to continue my search later." His smile could not disguise the look of intense dislike in his eyes. As he raised my hand to his lips, my skin crawled and I shivered involuntarily. This I hastily converted into a little sigh of pleasure and fixed him with a guileless expression. His eyes widened, and I could see that he was not sure what to think. I had met his type before, many times, and I knew exactly how the game must be played. It pained me that such a malign influence was present at Arthur's court.

This was just the beginning, and I decided that he would bear watching. At dinner, he was seated to Arthur's right, and it was evident that the king thought highly of him, treating him with deference and affection. Despite the man's oily charm, I could see nothing in him to warrant such attention, and it occurred to me that Arthur had found in him a substitute father figure.

 **...**

The man stood on the threshold and took a quick survey of the interior. The Rising Sun was frequented by the knights of Camelot and the civilian population. The dreadful weather had kept away many of the regulars on this particular evening, but the knights were not to be deterred. A small group of them occupied a table in the corner. The newcomer made towards one of the empty tables but was stopped by Sir Leon, who, recognizing him as one of Annis' contingent, and as a gesture towards the thawed relations between the two kingdoms, invited him to join them.

The newcomer seemed pleased by the courtesy and after taking a seat, called the barman over. His offer to buy the next round was gratefully accepted, and Sir Leon introduced his companions as Sir Percival, Sir Elyan and Sir Gwaine. The stranger introduced himself as Sir John and said it was a pleasure to have found such convivial company. After the orders were taken, he had a quiet word in the barman's ear and placed something in his hand. Sir Gwaine raised his tankard to his lips and drained it in a single gulp, Setting it down on the table with a smack of his lips and a sigh of satisfaction, he was pleased to find that it was instantly replenished to the brim. Sir John leaned back in his seat and smiled. It was going to be a productive evening.

 **...**

"Well?" I enquired. "What did you discover?"

"It is just as you feared, Your Highness. You were right."

"Go on," I said. "What happened?"

"Yesterday evening, Lord Agravaine chose to leave the castle, despite the inclement weather. I followed him into the forest."

"What did he do there?"

"He visited a hovel, deep inside the wood. A _witch's_ hovel."

I looked up sharply at this, and he nodded.

"Oh yes, the Lady Morgana herself came to the door to welcome him. He went inside and they talked a good while."

"Why did you not tell me this last night?"

"I would have, Your Highness, but there's more. As I followed him back, he passed the Rising Sun tavern in the village. I chanced to look through the window and saw a group of Arthur's main knights. I thought that this would be as good an opportunity as any to loosen their tongues."

"And was it?" I asked, already certain of the answer. I had never known anyone else with John's talent of getting people to talk.

He smiled. "It was most informative. It would appear that Arthur Pendragon did not want to kill our king at all. He was talked into it by Lord Agravaine."

"Are you sure of this? How do you know?"

"One of the knights overheard the conversation, which took place around the campfire late at night. Lord Agravaine was speaking quietly, no doubt for fear of eavesdroppers, but Sir Percival, who had got up to relieve himself, tells me he has excellent hearing."

"Do you trust him?"

"Implicitly. He's as straight as a die. A more honest knight could not be found. He was able to relate all the particulars of the conversation, and they had the ring of truth. Initially he was reluctant to divulge the information, but after a few tankards his caution left him. The other knights were indignant that he hadn't told them about this before, but he replied that it wasn't his business to question the actions of the king and his uncle."

"I see," I said. "That has been most helpful. Thank you, John."

"There's something else," he said. "It's unrelated, but I'm sure you'll want to know about it. It's Sir Gwaine. He harbours a grudge against us. It would appear that he comes from our kingdom, and his father was one of our knights. He states that when his father died, his mother came to the king for help. He refused and sent her away."

My heart sank when I heard his story. I was under no illusions that my husband had been perfect, but would he really have turned away a woman in need? The wife of one of his own soldiers, who had given his life for our kingdom? This must have been in the days before we were married, or else I would have heard about it. He had come to the throne early, and I thought it quite possible, that in the arrogance of youth, knowing only the power but not the wisdom of kingship, he could have made this error. Well, if he had, it would be up to me to make reparation.

"Thank you, John," I said once again. "You have done well. I know nothing of this case but we must look into it."Feeling this was a matter of urgency, I sent him back to the kingdom to discover the veracity of the story.

 **...**

The heavy doors clanged shut behind him. Our eyes met across the room, and he had an inkling of what was coming. The guards marched him forwards until he stood trembling before us. Adopting an air of injured bewilderment, he protested to the king.

"Sire, this is an outrage..."

Arthur raised a hand to silence him. He strode leisurely down from the dais until he was face to face with his uncle.

"Tell me, Uncle, how does my sister these days?" he asked conversationally.

"Your sister?" he spluttered.

"Yes. The Lady Morgana. You have seen her?"

" I don't know what you're talking about." His voice shook, and his denial convinced nobody. Arthur gave him no quarter.

"We have witnesses who are prepared to testify that they have seen you together. You are working for her. You're a traitor, and the penalty for treason is death. However, there is one who has a prior claim on your life. By your ill advice, you condemned her husband to a cruel and needless end. Let her decide your fate." He gestured towards the traitor with a grimace.

"Queen Annis, he's all yours."

I stretched out my hand, and he placed his sword in it, as we had agreed.

"On your knees!" I commanded the traitor. He struggled, and the guards forced him to his knees. I walked slowly behind him and pressed the blade against his neck.

"How does it feel, _My Lord_ , waiting for your head to be severed from your body? Do you hope for mercy, or shall I afford you the same 'justice' you awarded to my husband?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. What he felt was very obvious. A telltale stench assailed my nostrils, as he lost control of his bodily functions and soiled himself. I closed my eyes and lifted the sword. I envisioned the blade slicing through his neck, blood splattering everywhere, the head flying through the air before rolling grotesquely to a halt. I knew this was a fitting punishment for him, yet I could not do it, despite the vengeance owed to my husband.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. "Stand up," I said. "I will leave you to the mercies of the hangman's noose."

He stumbled to his feet slowly, quivering, a shadow of his former self. He raised a shaking hand and pointed to his nephew. "There, Madam, is the man who killed your husband. The responsibility is his."

"You vile cur," I said in fury, striking him across the mouth. "You sought to corrupt one king and kill another and condemn thousands of men to a senseless death on the battlefield. May you rot in hell."

"Enough!" Arthur's voice was redolent of anger, pain and regret. He addressed his uncle again.

"I trusted you," he said simply. "I listened to you, against my better instincts, against my own conscience. How I wish that I had heeded Merlin's advice instead."

"Merlin? He's just a serving boy," the traitor scoffed.

"That _serving boy_ is both loyal and wise" the king returned, keeping a close hold on his temper. "Unlike you, he has never given me advice designed to start a war and put my enemy on the throne." The betrayal was almost too much for him, and his voice trembled as he asked. "Why, Uncle, why?"

Lord Agravaine hesitated, but knowing that his case was hopeless and there was no way back for him, he declared the truth.

"I love her...and I _hate_ you. If it wasn't for you, my beloved sister would still be alive. She's worth a hundred of you, Arthur Pendragon," he spat out, full of virulence and loathing. Taking everyone by surprise, he rushed towards the king with a feral growl, dagger in hand.

He dropped where he stood before the guards could even touch him. Everyone clustered around the fallen body, as Arthur knelt and examined him. I alone among the company whirled around and saw. Behind the throne stood Merlin, humble servant no longer, but avenging god, golden flecks still visible in his eyes. He radiated power. Lord Agravaine never stood a chance.

Arthur got to his feet, and in tones of mingled astonishment, sadness, and relief, declared "He's dead."

Tearing my eyes away from Merlin, who had now resumed his normal guise, I said shakily "Perhaps his heart gave out. He was a coward, after all. At least it saves you the trouble of a public execution. Not to mention the disgrace to the family name."

"Indeed." He motioned to the guards. "Get him out of here. I cannot bear to look at him."

 **...**

There was one further matter to be attended to, and after having made the necessary enquiries, I had decided what needed to be done. Sir Gwaine entered, obviously having no idea why he had been summoned. He was disconcerted to find me alone.

"Where's the king?" he enquired, his brows lifting in surprise.

"The king is not here," I replied. "It is I that wishes to see you."

There was an awkward silence while various possibilities raced through his mind. His suspicion was clear, but he managed to arrange his features into a semblance of civility. "You have business with me, Your Highness?" he asked finally.

"Indeed I do, Sir Gwaine... It is business which I hope will be to your liking." I paused to give us both time to collect our thoughts, and then continued. "I have recently discovered that your father was a knight of Caerleon and that a great wrong was done to your family when he died. I wish to make reparation to you."

Every thought and emotion showed on his face, making him easy to read. He was shocked at my proposal and suspected an ulterior motive. "Thank you, Your Highness, but I don't need anything," was his instant response.

"It is not a question of whether you need anything but of what is the right thing to do," I said. "I will grant you an earldom and a small but fertile parcel of land close to the border with Camelot."

This time, he recoiled in horror. "No, Your Highness, I couldn't possibly accept. I am a man who stands on his own two feet and makes his own way in the world. I don't believe in titles, anyway. Thank you for your offer. I am honoured by it," he added as an afterthought.

"Not noticeably," I muttered under my breath. In a louder tone, I appealed to him again.

"Do not be so quick to dismiss this offer, Sir Gwaine. You should consider that your future wife and children may not view this proposal in the same light and would be glad of your accepting it," I suggested, with just a touch of asperity.

He looked momentarily stunned but recovered his insouciant manner soon enough.

"Ah, I doubt I'm the marrying kind," he returned with a wry smile.

"That would be a waste," I told him bluntly. "I am sure you will make some lucky girl a fine husband one day."

I thought the best way of persuading him was to be open and honest and to speak from the heart.

"I have known both the joys of a happy marriage and the agony of being unable to bear children. Do not voluntarily deny yourself a loving family life, I beg of you. I think it will suit you very well."

He was beginning to waver, and I felt I was close to gaining his assent.

"I know it is too late to repair the original damage that was done to you and your mother, and for that, I am deeply sorry," I said. "Your father gave his life for our kingdom, and his family should have been rewarded, not spurned. Please allow me at least to make amends by restoring to your descendants what is rightfully theirs."

This argument could not fail to make an impression on him, and I watched with interest as he warred within himself.

"Your Highness," he said. "I am honoured, but my allegiance is to Arthur now. I could not change that."

"I know that, Sir Gwaine, and I wouldn't want you to. But Arthur and I are allies, and shortly to become closer. You are a young man now, and you can appoint a steward to oversee the land for you. When you retire from active service, you will be glad to have a place to call your own. Even then, it so close to the border that it will be less than a day's ride to visit your friends in the citadel."

This seemed to convince him, and at last he came to a decision. He smiled sweetly at me, all trace of wariness and suspicion gone. I saw in him the epitome of knightly charm, honour, and chivalry, and I had no doubt that he would be a credit to both kingdoms.

"In memory of my mother and for the sake of my unborn children," he said as he knelt and kissed my hand. " I thank you and accept your generous offer."

When the news leaked out, he was ribbed mercilessly by the other knights. His views on nobility being well known, they took delight in bowing obsequiously and addressing him as 'My Lord' at every conceivable opportunity. Even the king winked at him, grinning, "Now you know what it feels like." Only Merlin and Guinevere abstained from teasing, both hugging him warmly and telling him he deserved this stroke of good fortune. For my own part, I was thankful that fate had granted me the opportunity to remedy this evil, and I looked upon it as another step upon the road to unity.


	2. Chapter 2

My mission here was fulfilled. I had avenged my husband, and a new treaty had been signed, restoring our alliance with Camelot. It was time to go home. I gave the orders and our preparations were soon complete. We would leave the following day. There only remained the banquet that Arthur was to hold in our honour that evening.

Arthur was a pleasant companion at dinner, and I was impressed at how he managed to put away the pain of his uncle's betrayal and focus on being an excellent host. In fact, he seemed relieved, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It was only later I discovered that Lord Agravaine's opposition to his attachment to Guinevere had prevented the marriage from taking place. It was also evident that his uncle had been unpopular, and the general mood was more of a celebration than a wake.

I complimented Arthur on the feast and in particular, the quality of the wine, some of the best I had ever drunk. A servant hovered at my elbow, waiting to refill my goblet. I glanced around and saw that it was Merlin. Despite what Arthur had said to his uncle, I remembered how he had described the servant when they entered my camp. The powerful wine was already working its own magic, and in a spirit of mischief, I turned to the king and said eagerly.

"Now, I think it's time for some entertainment. I would love to see your fool perform. Given all his failings, he must have some skills."

I had already decided to keep his secret, but I was intrigued to see what Merlin would do and felt no qualms that he would expose himself as a sorcerer. If he had survived for so long in Uther's Camelot, he was either excellent at subterfuge or surrounded by persons of a particularly oblivious nature. Probably both. For my own part, I was hard put to maintain a straight face and appear unconscious of the ensuing conversation between the servant and his master.

"I'm _not_ a fool," said Merlin in an offended undertone.

"That's debatable," returned the king, unable to suppress a grin.

As the banter continued between them, it was apparent that their relationship was much closer than was usual, considering their respective positions. This was another point in Arthur's favour, distinguishing him from Uther's rigid adherence to hierarchy, even if he was obviously enjoying the prospect of Merlin's discomfiture.

As Merlin took up his place in the centre of the hall, I observed that the audience was divided between those who were expecting him to produce something extraordinary and those who were waiting for him to humiliate himself. The king clearly belonged in the latter camp. I wasn't sure which I enjoyed more: Merlin's juggling or the look of utter befuddlement on Arthur's face. After the servant's display, the king admitted to me in a low voice, "Actually, he's not _always_ an idiot. He has saved my life more than once, and he is a very competent assistant to our Court Physician. Gaius is very proud of him." I could see that Gaius wasn't the only one.

I had retired to my chambers when the messenger came. His horse thundered into the courtyard, nostrils flaring from the exertion. The messenger jumped off, handed the reins to the waiting servant and ran up the castle steps. I recognized him immediately as one of ours and rushed back down to the great hall. Arthur was already waiting, in sombre mood. Other members of his council began to arrive shortly afterwards, having been hastily summoned.

"Your Highness, I bring bad news," the messenger began.

"Yes?" I said, struggling to contain my impatience. "Go on."

He hesitated for a moment but then blurted the story. "The Lady Morgana has attacked the village of Eppingham. She sent you a message, Your Highness. She said that it was a warning to those who choose their allies carelessly and to those who are enemies of the rightful queen of Camelot. She...she said that unless you renounce your treaty with the 'usurper', the village of Lodor will be next."

A cold fury took possession of me. The witch was clearly unhinged, and I blamed myself for not anticipating her response. This was not the first time she had proved her willingness to exact revenge on the weak and defenceless. She had dared to kill my beloved people and threaten me. If she imagined that she could dictate my actions, she would soon learn her mistake. I longed to make her pay but was forced to stop in my tracks as I realized how little I could do. What use were thousands of men against the sorceress? As I searched for a solution to the problem, I spotted the modest, unassuming figure of Arthur's servant. An idea quickly formed itself in my mind. I was itching to be gone but the night had already closed in. "We leave at first light," I declared.

"Very well," said Arthur promptly. "I will send my knights to accompany you." He nodded in their direction. "Sir Leon, Sir Percival..."

I had anticipated his offer and had my answer ready. "Thank you, but no," I interposed firmly. "I have my own knights, who will be more than willing to undertake the task. However, I do request one of your contingent...Merlin."

" _Merlin_!" Arthur parroted, mouth agape in astonishment. "What on earth do you want him for? What can _he_ do to help?"

Oh, you'd be surprised, I thought, repressing the urge to give him a piece of my mind. I wondered, yet again, how Arthur Pendragon, who showed such promise of greatness, could be so blind when it came to members of his own household. How could he miss the startlingly obvious, the evidence which was before his very eyes? Instead, I said aloud. "I require his services as a physician. There is likely to be some bloodshed, unfortunately. Our own physician is taken ill, and I would not deprive you of Gaius."

Arthur seemed uncertain, and a worried frown creased his brow. "Merlin...he's as helpless as a newborn lamb. I wouldn't want him to come to any harm." Then, feeling embarrassed by his display of emotion, he continued. "Servants this idiotic are hard to find."

I could see that Merlin meant a great deal to him, although he was loath to admit it. "We will offer him every protection," I assured him. "He will stay behind the lines to conduct the medical operation. You gave me to understand that he has some skill in this area."

Gaius and Merlin exchanged a glance. Ah, so Gaius _knows_ , I thought. I was pleased to find that Merlin did not carry this burden entirely alone and reflected how hard it must have been for him living in Uther's Camelot.

"Sire, I believe Merlin to be more than capable of the challenge," the physician declared.

"I'll go with him," volunteered Sir Gwaine. "I'll make sure no harm comes to him, Sire. And it will give me the chance to see my new lands."

Bowing to the inevitable, the king nodded reluctantly. "Very well."

 **...**

There was an eerie silence. Death hung in the air. The bodies were everywhere. They had been cut down where they stood: men, women and children. Their attempts to flee the carnage or beg for mercy had been to no avail. As we searched for survivors, the appalling reality became clear. Not even one soul was left alive. This was the revenge of Morgana Pendragon. This scene of utter desolation brought tears to my eyes but I blinked them back. Once again, I had to demonstrate the strength of a queen. There was nothing that we could do for these people now except to bury them with dignity.

There was silence on the road to Lodor. Even Sir Gwaine, who had tried to lighten the tension by keeping us all entertained with a string of ribald stories on the journey from Camelot, could not rise to the challenge this time. The mood was grim, and the images we had just witnessed weighed heavily on our minds. We were all determined that Lodor should escape the fate of Eppingham.

As we approached, I noticed a small clearing in the woods just outside the village. I called Merlin and suggested that this would be a suitable place to tend the wounded, reminding him that I had promised Arthur that I wouldn't expose him to the risks of battle. I was anxious to give him the privacy he required for whatever preparations he would make. He agreed, thanking me for my consideration, and soon departed, ostensibly to collect some vital herbs. A short while later he reappeared, transformed into the guise of an old man, with long, flowing white locks and wearing a long red robe. He tried to remain unobtrusive and merge into the background, but there was nowhere to hide. I decided to approach him, and I addressed him as a stranger, asking him why he had come. As we spoke, he began to attract the attention of the others, but I was amazed to find that nobody else recognized him, despite the similarity. Obliviousness wasn't confined to Camelot then. My own knights also seemed infected by it. However, I was perturbed when I realized that whatever spell Merlin had used to change his appearance had also sapped his youthful energy and vigour. He walked with a slight limp and any exertion made him breathless. I eyed him doubtfully, wondering whether he would be able to cope with Morgana in that state.

Without warning, Sir Gwaine caught sight of him and pointed his sword towards the old man. "You!" he said with loathing. "Murderer! Regicide! You won't escape the flames this time."

I had heard the story of Uther's death, but until now had not realized that the sorcerer involved had been Merlin in disguise. Now I thought about it, of course it made sense. I thought it greatly to Merlin's credit that he had attempted to cure Uther at all in the circumstances. Nevertheless, I was shocked at the knight's behaviour, not having believed him capable of such animosity.

There could be no clearer demonstration of the wretched legacy of Uther. Sir Gwaine, unknowingly threatening his closest friend and blindly following the common prejudice. Poor Merlin. How much he must have had to cope with.

"Sir Gwaine," I called imperatively. "Leave him. He's on our side."

"But...he's a sorcerer!" he protested.

"And?" I answered. "What of it?"

He looked bewildered by my response. "I have nothing against sorcerers, Sir Gwaine," I said. "They are _people_ , with the same capacity for good and evil as the rest of us."

I thought that I had given him enough to contemplate for now. "He's an old man", I said, "and he's come to help us fight Morgana. Perhaps you could offer him some assistance and keep him shielded until we find her."

 **...**

In the event, she proved easy to find. She was waiting for us. She stood smirking in the middle of the road. I walked towards her, till I was close enough to look her in the eye. My knights and her band of Saxon followers stood back, waiting, and it felt as if there were just the two of us in the world.

"Well, Annis," she began. "You've seen what happens to those who defy me. Have you renounced your treaty with my brother? Are you ready to recognize me as the true Queen of Camelot?"

I stared at her in disbelief. She was deluded, on the edge of insanity, making me pity and despise her in equal measure.

"No," I said.

 _"No_? That's it?" she laughed, making an extravagant gesture of the hand.

"That's it," I replied baldly. "What were you expecting?"

"Very well," she said, grinning smugly. "Have it your way, _Your Highness_. Ready to watch some more of your people die?"

"Even if you kill half the kingdom, it won't help you," I said. "Your cause is lost. You'll never be queen, Morgana. You know nothing of how to rule, and the people will never accept you."

I knew that although I had no weapons to defeat her physically, my words had wounded her and made her pause for thought. She made a display of nonchalance, however, and returned to the attack.

"The people respect power, Annis. You will see them kneel before me."

It was my turn to laugh. Her complacency and arrogance would be her undoing.

"You are a very cruel and selfish woman, Morgana," I told her. "I feel sorry for you. Your brother inspires trust and loyalty. The people would die for him, as he would for them, yet you cannot even draw other sorcerers to your cause."

It was true. I did feel sorry for her, knowing the kind and caring girl she had once been. Whatever had happened to change her so completely, she was lost. I knew that an appeal to her good nature would be futile. She had none left.

"No sorcerer would dare to fight against me," she gloated.

I could see Merlin shuffling forward out of the corner of my eye. He raised an arm.

"No?" I said. "How about this one?"

"Emrys!" she gasped as the spell hit her, and I noted with satisfaction that at last the smirk had been wiped off her face, to be replaced by shock and fear. The force knocked her backwards, and she crashed into a tree, slithered down to the base, and crumpled into a heap. After a few moments, she began to moan softly. I had seen the way Merlin despatched Lord Agravaine, but it seemed that in this guise, he did not have the strength or the desire to kill her outright. She thought so too. Somehow, she got to her feet, bravado returning.

"Emrys! You're just an old man. You can't stop me," she laughed scornfully. Raising her arm, she recited an incantation. This time Merlin was sent flying backwards through the air. He landed with a sickening thud and lay motionless.

My heart stopped, and I was afraid he was dead, until I saw his eyelids flutter. A gentle breeze began to swirl around Morgana's feet, so slight that at first she didn't even notice it. Gradually increasing in intensity, she was soon in the middle of a vortex so powerful, it lifted her off the ground. She struggled but was impotent to stop it. It tossed her this way and that as if she were the merest leaf. Clawing futilely at the air, her mouth opened in a silent scream as she was forced to turn slow somersaults, until finally it began to carry her away from us.

"I'll be baaaaaack," she wailed helplessly as she was swept away on the raging winds.

We fought the urge to laugh at her predicament. Emotions were running high, and although they wished her dead, there was a general satisfaction among the men at the humiliating nature of Morgana's exit. Her group of Saxon bandits were dismayed to be shorn of their leader and attempted to flee. My knights, fuelled by anger and disgust at their massacre of innocent and defenceless victims, made short work of them. Their screams and cries rent the air, and then all was quiet.

While the men were thus occupied, I rushed over to Merlin. He was groggy, but with my assistance, he was able to stand. I thanked him for his help, and he replied, "If you need me again, Your Highness, send a message through Gaius. He will know where to find me." He then bowed awkwardly and made his departure, limping back the way we had come.

I watched him go, my feelings a mixture of gratitude and pity. How dangerous and difficult his situation must have been as he was forced to hide in the shadows and to live a lie. He was someone who thought only of others but had lived in constant fear for his own life. I resolved to help him in any way I could. After a pause that I judged long enough for him to recover and turn back into himself, I approached the others.

We had sustained only minor injuries in the skirmish, and I suggested that we return to the clearing so that Merlin could tend to the wounded. This he did quickly and expertly, with a firm but gentle touch, bringing instant relief to the sufferers.

I made my farewells to Sir Gwaine, giving him directions to Fairlands for the return journey to Camelot. I was pleased to note that he was reconciled to his new position and even looking forward to seeing his estate.

"Till we meet again, Sir Gwaine," I said with a smile, and then turned to the warlock.

"Thank you, Merlin, for everything you've done," I said. "Your contribution has been invaluable, and I will make sure Arthur knows how grateful we are."

"Oh, I didn't do anything," he replied modestly. "You could have managed without me."

I longed to be able to tell him that I knew exactly what he had done for us, but I could see that the time was not right. He wasn't ready.

"Your calm and cheerful presence has helped us all," I told him. "You're a good man to have around in a crisis, Merlin, and your skills as a physician are second to none." I extended my hand towards him. "It has truly been a pleasure to know you."

A beaming smile lit up his face. "You're welcome, Your Highness", he replied, as he shook my hand. "I was pleased to help." He hesitated a moment and seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but then thought better of it. It was clear that he would never divulge his secret willingly.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thank you for the reviews, favs, and follows. It's been a lovely introduction to the site. :) Thank you also to Wil1969 for the beautiful cover. This is the last chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Time passed, and we heard little of Morgana, other than unsubstantiated rumours. We knew she would try again and were in a constant state of readiness. The marriage of Arthur and Guinevere, while a joyous occasion, could only cause her to redouble her efforts. Eventually the news that we had all been dreading came. She had somehow amassed an army of many thousands, with the Saxon warlord, Helios, under her command. They were marching through the lands towards Camelot, impressing any men they could find and leaving a trail of death and destruction behind them.

Arthur called his allies to a council of war. I saw again how impressive he was as a leader, as he drew everyone together and outlined his strategy for the forthcoming battle. He had no wish to subject his people to a lengthy siege, and preferred to meet his sister in open battle, utilizing the element of surprise. Morgana would be expecting to face only Camelot's army, not counting on the bonds of loyalty and solidarity that had caused his allies to come to his aid. He was an excellent tactician as well as a great motivator. Camelot would attack the enemy head on, with the trusted armies of Caerleon and Nemeth on the flanks. The remaining allies would attack from the rear, cutting off any possibility of retreat. I had no doubt that he would defeat the Saxons. We would match them in number, and while they were fighting merely for the rights of rape and pillage, we were fighting to retain our very way of life. I thought it would give us the edge. However, an unspoken question was in the minds of all present, although no-one dared to voice it.

What could be done about Morgana? It was obvious that conventional weapons would be useless against her. I imagined that Merlin had made secret plans of his own to deal with her, but I remembered how the ageing spell had sapped his strength and left him vulnerable. How much better it would be, I thought, if he could fight her openly as himself and if Arthur could include him in the plan of battle.

Time was of the essence, and I determined to speak to Merlin at the first opportunity. When we chanced to find ourselves alone, I beckoned to him.. He looked around uncertainly, as if unable to believe I meant him. Our eyes met and I nodded encouragingly. He came forward, holding himself stiffly, an anxious question in his eyes.

"Please sit, Merlin," I said, gesturing towards the empty chair beside me. His amazement growing more obvious every moment, he nevertheless complied, looking at me enquiringly.

"As you know, this kingdom is on the brink of war," I began bluntly. I heard his sharp intake of breath, hastily suppressed. Whatever he had been expecting, it was evidently not this. Years of training took their effect, however, and he assumed a neutral expression of polite interest. He had been hiding his true self for so long that this was second nature to him. It made me long to pierce his outer shell and reach out to him.

"Even as we speak, Morgana is amassing her forces," I continued. "She grows stronger daily. Very soon, none will dare oppose her...except Arthur. Yet he is at a disadvantage, for he believes he cannot counteract the witch. For a leader to be victorious, he must know all the fighters and weapons at his disposal, so he can devise his strategy accordingly. He knows that he leads a great and noble army and that he will have loyal allies to help him, but even this will not be enough. All could be lost, for the king is completely unaware that he can fight fire with fire...or magic with magic."

He gasped again and this time could not recover his composure. Waves of shock, panic and fear followed each other across his face. I smiled, to try and calm him and said as gently as I could,

"Don't you think you owe him the truth?"

He seemed lost for words, and at first I thought he wouldn't answer, but then he swallowed hard before replying.

"I've always wanted to tell him, but it was difficult to find the right moment," he said, shrugging in despair.

"There will never be a perfect time, Merlin, but you should tell him now, before the battle."

"He'll probably throw me in the dungeons and have me executed," he responded gloomily.

I stared at him, unable to believe that this was what he really thought.

"Not a chance, Merlin, you must know that. He cares for you more than anyone."

"But he doesn't know who I really am. If he knew..."

"It wouldn't change a thing. Sometimes you need an outsider to see things clearly, and I can tell you this. There is nothing he would not do for you, no error he would not forgive. He might need a little time to get over the shock, but that is all."

"The shock of what?"

We had been so absorbed in the conversation, that we had failed to notice the king standing in the doorway.

Merlin jumped, but I merely smiled. "Ah, Arthur, what perfect timing," I said. "Merlin has something he wants to tell you. I understand why he kept quiet during your father's reign, and afterwards, force of habit must have been so strong. Nobody could have served you with greater loyalty and courage, and I would have been honoured if someone had done the same for me. His skills are unique, and he has put them to good use on your behalf. I think it is the right time for him to tell you this wonderful news, for now they are needed more than ever."

I did not wait to see their reaction, but having done what I could to smooth Merlin's path, I rose and left them together.

 **...**

Nobody knew exactly what passed between them, but the repercussions of this conversation were long lasting. As I had expected, the king accepted and welcomed Merlin's magic, although he was finding the years of deception much harder to forgive. However, retribution or recriminations which might have perhaps followed under different circumstances were entirely absent. There simply wasn't time. The Saxons were almost at the gate. Despite the urgency of the situation, there was ongoing tension as a result of the revelation of Merlin's magic. It was made known unofficially that the king intended to legalize sorcery, but that the formal declaration had to be postponed because of the battle preparations. Opinion was sharply divided among the people. There were those who held on to the old prejudices and held themselves aloof from him, attempting to hide their contempt only for fear of the king's anger. There were others who viewed him almost as a god, and treated him accordingly with awe and reverence. Unsurprisingly, he was uncomfortable with either group. There was a general relief, however, in the knowledge that now the kingdom had the means to counteract Morgana.

As the battle drew closer, despite the support he had received from the king, Merlin became morose and withdrawn. It seemed as if something was weighing heavily on his mind. He was likely to lose patience quickly, snap at anyone when they addressed him, and his hostility to one particular knight, Sir Mordred, was so marked that it was beginning to be commented on. Upon enquiry, I discovered the young man's history as a druid and wondered whether the problem was caused by something in their mutual past.

Matters soon came to a head, however. The sounds of an argument in the corridor filtered through to the Great Hall.

"What's the matter with you? Why don't you _trust_ me?" Mordred could be heard shouting in frustration.

Merlin's answer was low and menacing, the words inaudible to those within.

"You're accusing me of treason? How dare you? You know I would never do that!"

Someone ran to the door and opened it, revealing the two men in an undignified scuffle.

"Do I? I've _seen_ you kill him," Merlin responded. "Explain that."

Mordred put his head in his hands. "I would never do such a thing," he repeated, his voice sinking to a despairing whisper. "The vision must be wrong."

Sir Leon, hearing only the accusation of treason, ordered the guards to seize Mordred and bring him before the king. Furious argument, accusation and counter accusation continued until Arthur could be found. He was located in Gaius' chambers, having gone there to consult the physician on a delicate matter. At the news that Mordred had been arrested, Arthur rushed to the Hall, leaving Gaius to follow breathlessly in his wake.

" _What_ is going on here?" Arthur had to shout to make himself heard above the commotion. Several voices tried to answer him at once. I could see his anger growing as he attempted to make sense of the confusing babble. Finally he'd had enough. "Silence," he bellowed and fixed his steely gaze upon Sir Leon, who was unfortunate to be closest.

"So, let me see if I've understood this correctly. You expect me to execute Mordred because Merlin had a _dream_?" he drawled, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

"I fear it was more than a dream, Sire," Gaius intervened. "It was a vision; not the first one Merlin has had. He has great power."

There was silence while the company absorbed this information. Arthur had no intention of accepting it. "Can it be averted?" he asked the physician.

"I don't know, Sire. It may be that it is just one of many possible versions of the future."

"It has no validity then," Arthur stated firmly, pleased to find his supposition correct.

At this a voice boomed out in stentorian tones, shaking the castle to its foundations.

"This destiny cannot be averted. The druid boy must die." Merlin and Gaius started in consternation, Mordred gasped in horror, while the rest of the company concentrated on maintaining their composure.

"Who or what is that?" Arthur exclaimed.

"The Great Dragon, Sire. His name is Kilgharrah," Gaius replied ruefully.

"He's alive? You _know_ him?" Arthur was incredulous.

"I haven't met him for many years but..." He paused briefly, but realizing that the disclosure of the truth was unavoidable, continued. "Merlin is the last dragonlord, and Kilgharrah acts as his personal advisor."

"What? Was it _you_ who let him out?" the king demanded furiously of the warlock. "No wonder you did not dare to tell me this before!"

"You must not blame Merlin, My Lord," the dragon continued. "I forced him to release me. I came for your sake and the sake of your kingdom to tell you that the Druid boy must die. The prophets say it cannot be otherwise."

"I don't believe in fairy tales," Arthur replied contemptuously, "and I don't much care for dragon morality either. Perhaps my father was right all along."

This mention of Uther caused the dragon to emit a roar in anger, which shook us to our very bones. Merlin closed his eyes and began to speak loudly and sharply in a strange tongue. The effects of this were seen at once, as the dragon spoke again in a softer tone.

"I'm sorry, My Lord. I will leave you now, but know that I have only your best interests at heart. If you ever need my help, Merlin knows where to find me." With this, we felt him depart, and we all turned to look at the warlock. Again he squirmed under the heat of Arthur's gaze. The king was speechless, but his eyes warned of a heavy reckoning to be paid. At that point, I felt that nothing further could surprise me, but I was wrong.

Mordred broke free of the guards restraining him. "The dragon's right," he said. Looking the king directly in the eye, he vowed. "I would never knowingly harm you, Sire. You've been like a father to me, and it has been an honour to serve you. But maybe this prophecy cannot be denied, and so you shouldn't take the risk. At least this way, both you and the kingdom will be safe." He drew his sword and handed it to the king.

"Do it quickly, while my courage holds," he begged, his voice trembling only a little. Then he knelt at Arthur's feet, leaning forward slightly and exposing his neck before him.

Nobody moved. Shock held us all silent. Arthur's eyes filled to the brim and overflowed as he looked down at the kneeling boy.

"Ah, you're a brave lad," he said, "and I'm honoured that you would lay down your life for me. But..."

He gripped Mordred firmly by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet.

"...I believe I'll take my chances."

"Why?" the boy asked in bewilderment.

"Because I trust you," Arthur replied simply, putting an arm around him.

Mordred broke down and subsided against Arthur's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as the king attempted to comfort him.

Arthur looked up and seemed as if he was suddenly aware of our presence. "Leave us," he ordered, surveying the company with disfavour. Everyone started to move towards the door, apart from Merlin, who remained stubbornly in place, his expression grim and resolute.

"And _you_ , Merlin," Arthur addressed him, anger in his voice. His eyes conveyed a message as clearly as if he had said the words: This is _your_ fault. Merlin sent him an unspoken reply in which defiance, self-justification, contrition, and shame could all be read.

Arthur was in an unforgiving mood. He marched towards the door, flung it open and stood patiently as the rest of us filed through.

"Out!" he ordered the servant sternly. Seeing no alternative, unless he wanted to enrage the king further, he obeyed and followed us into the adjoining room. I felt overcome by the emotion of the scene we had just witnessed and sank into the nearest chair. The knights milled around aimlessly, but Merlin added to the tension of the occasion by pacing frantically up and down. Eventually, Gaius could bear it no longer.

"Merlin, stop that! You are making us all nervous. There is nothing we can do but wait." At these words, I beckoned to the nearest servant and requested him to bring us some wine. When it arrived, I poured some into a goblet for Merlin.

"Drink," I commanded him. "You clearly need it." He took it reluctantly, looking at Gaius, but his guardian merely nodded. He sipped it slowly, and it did seem to exercise a beneficial effect.

Arthur came in, alone and bereft. Merlin rushed towards him. "Arthur..."

"Not now, Merlin," he replied, his voice raw and choked.

"What happened?" I asked gently. "Where is Mordred?"

"He's gone," he said disbelievingly.

"Gone?"

"Yes, he wouldn't stay. He said that as I had been so gracious as to spare his life, he would do everything in his power to save mine...by removing himself as far as possible from me. He thought that was the only way to eliminate the danger. He intends to put clear blue water between us by crossing the sea to Gaul. I tried everything I could think of to change his mind, but he was adamant. He said that destiny might decree our paths would cross again, but he would not come back willingly."

He sounded so desolate that no one was sure what to do. There was a collective sigh of relief at the news that Guinevere had returned from the lower town. Her mere presence soothed him and she could offer him the kind of solace no one else could give. She hugged and kissed him, saying "I'm so sorry, Arthur. But perhaps he won't go alone?"

She had found the right words, and he looked a little more cheerful. "Yes, you're right. That's the only crumb of comfort in this. There is a girl he used to know. He said he would try to find her and take her with him."

We all felt the need to grant the king and queen some privacy. As we left the room, we heard Arthur speak again in mournful tones.

"He swore fealty to me again before he left. And kissed my hand in homage."

 **...**

The day of battle had arrived. I gave instructions to the leading knights, and they called the men together. They came slowly, leaden-footed, and with expressions tense and serious, knowing that for many of them, this could be their last day on Earth. At last, they were gathered, and I mounted the platform to address them, looking down over the vast sea of faces, all turned towards me in silent appeal.

"You have seen with your own eyes what the witch has done," I began. "She has laid waste to the land and murdered anyone who stood in her way. She has drawn to her cause the renegade, the disaffected, the mercenary, and the Saxon. She allows her marauding hordes free rein to rape your women, kill your children, and burn your villages to the ground. This day you will fight for your homes, your lives, and the lives of your families."

A low growl could be heard from the men. I could sense their simmering anger, and I knew that we must seize the moment.

"We will prevail!" I continued. "I am proud to lead you into battle. With your strength, your resilience, and your valour, we will crush the invader. Victory will be ours!"

The answering cheers were loud and long.I held up a hand, and silence fell again. The time had come for me to declare my intentions not only for the battle, but for the future of my lands as well.

We fight at the side of a great and just king – Arthur Pendragon! A fearless warrior, who will yet deliver peace to these lands. I am proud to be his ally, and I name him my heir. The lands of Albion will be united!"

I brandished my sword and proclaimed, "For Albion!"

The response was deafening. The refrain "For Albion!" echoed for miles around.

 **...**

The battle itself passed me by in a blur. I am a warrior queen, but the sheer scale and intensity of this one was unprecedented in my experience. My memory is of a confusing maelstrom of impressions and events. The noise, the chaos, the screams of the injured and dying, and the stench of blood. The sheer desperation of it all. But some things stand out, pivotal moments which will stay with me forever.

 _Arthur_ , always visible among thousands of soldiers as he led from the front, urging his troops on, as he cut a path through the Saxons to their leader. Helios had the advantage of height, but he could not match Arthur's strength, skill, or determination. Their fight was short and brutal, with the Saxon constantly under pressure. Eventually, he stumbled and let his guard down. Arthur ended it with a strike through the throat, killing his opponent instantly.

The Saxons, who had been watching and waiting for the outcome, now attempted to fall on the victor. A single flash from Merlin's eyes scattered them like particles of dust. Arthur turned to find the warlock at his side and said, "Thank you, my friend."

Merlin was about to reply, but the sight of him drew Morgana at last into the open.

"You!" She screamed at him. "You'll pay for this!"

"He's mine. Stay back," she ordered her followers quite unnecessarily, as none of them wanted to engage the mighty Emrys. Catching sight of Arthur, she sneered, "I'll deal with you afterwards, brother. You're destined to die by Mordred's hand. I've seen the vision too. You didn't have the guts to kill him, did you? You cannot defy the prophecy."

"Perhaps not," Merlin countered, "but we can delay it. Mordred's gone, _voluntarily_ ," he told her. "He won't be killing the king today, and neither, _My Lady_ , will you. Not if I have anything to say about it."

She screamed in fury and launched volleys of fire in his direction. Those behind him ran for cover, but he stood his ground and laughed. His eyes glowed gold and lifting a hand, he snuffed out the fires as if they were mere candles. Then he raised his hand higher towards the heavens and drew the heat of the sun through the cloud-filled sky into his palm.

"Hmm, you like it hot, Morgana? This is your last chance. Leave now or die."

"May you burn in hell," she shrieked, launching herself at him.

"After you, My Lady," he retorted, opening his hand and releasing the force within. It seemed as if the power of a million raging infernos was propelled towards Morgana and her followers. She realized what was coming and vanished, but for those who remained death was instantaneous.

She had one last card to play. She reappeared on the hillside as a white dragon flew across the sky and circled overhead. Morgana smirked. "Prepare to die," she taunted. "Go on, Aithusa. Burn them," she shrieked, causing everyone to run for cover in panic. Merlin alone stood still, seemingly untroubled, but before he could take any action, a second dragon appeared. So this must be the great Kilgharrah, I thought. He was a majestic sight, his huge wingspan dominating the skyline. He hovered above us, assessing the situation, and then roared at his smaller cousin. She cowered before him, bowing her head in submission. He roared again, and although I had never heard the dragon tongue, the message was unmistakable. Aithusa whimpered pitifully before flying away into the distance.

Morgana screamed in anguish. Kilgharrah turned his head towards her and took a deep breath. She recited a spell and vanished again, abandoning the few survivors to the dragonfire.

The Saxons were vanquished. Their dead and dying littered the plain. It had been a rout, a total annihilation. But Morgana could not stomach the defeat. She came back, hatred and humiliation forcing her to face her demons one final time. We all stood motionless, unable to do more than watch as ignoring everyone else, she approached the warlock.

" _You_! It's always been you. Let's finish it, then," she goaded him.

"Very well," he responded sadly. "But it doesn't have to be this way."

It was then I truly appreciated Merlin's greatness and magnanimity. Despite everything she had done, he was still prepared to offer her the chance of repentance and forgiveness. I knew she would not take it, and her words echoed my thoughts.

"It's too late for that," she told him, her body tensing as she prepared to strike. There was a blinding flash as they released their spells simultaneously. A jet of green light hit Merlin's protective wall and exploded backwards. Her own spell rebounded on Morgana, and she fell to the ground, twisted and broken. We knew she was dying. Arthur ran to her side, no longer seeing his mortal enemy, but only the sister he had loved.

At last, when it really was too late, she spoke the words that he had longed to hear.

"I am sorry, brother. Forgive me."

Arthur wept openly. "I loved you, Morgana. I loved you so much. I would have done anything for you."

Merlin came up to the king and whispered softly in his ear. "There may still be time. I can try and save her."

"Yes," said Arthur, eagerly.

"No, Merlin, let me go," Morgana gasped. "It's over. Just take me to Avalon afterwards...please."

Merlin looked at Arthur, and the king nodded silently, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Morgana stirred again. "Aithusa. I want Aithusa," she begged the warlock, her voice no more than a whisper. Merlin closed his eyes and recalled the dragon. Aithusa lay at her mistress's side and nestled her gently with her snout, all the while whimpering softly. Somehow Morgana found the strength to raise a hand and stroke her. Arthur held his sister's other hand and stayed to comfort her until she had passed into the other realm. When we saw that she had gone, Merlin spoke quietly to Aithusa, a question in his voice, and she nodded her assent. She lifted Morgana off the ground and soared into the sky, to carry her to her final resting place. Her tears fell on us like gentle raindrops.

 **...**

We made our way, bruised and bloodied, off the battlefield towards the infirmary. Gaius came out first to greet Merlin, and they hugged each other long and hard, with tears of relief in their eyes. Arthur and Gwen ran to each other and embraced, before Arthur noticed the bodies of dead Saxons lying all around.

"You seem to have had your own battle here," he remarked, hugging Gwen even more tightly.

"Yes, they actually thought that we would allow them to harm our patients," she replied pityingly. "They soon learnt their mistake."

I felt again that I had made the right decision. Here we had not only a king, but also a queen to be reckoned with. My kingdom would be in safe hands.

In the aftermath of war, our inhibitions leave us and social conventions break down. Extreme situations compel us to examine our hearts and act, as we know that we may never get another chance. And so it was that the princess and the warlock found each other. Their mutual attraction had been obvious to everyone for some time. She had fought her attraction to him initially, remembering her duty to her family and country. But I had seen her gaze rest often on Arthur and Gwen, hoping that where there had been one marriage between a royal and a servant, there might well be another. Meanwhile, he believed that he had nothing to offer her, and by a superhuman effort, had maintained an indifferent front. Mithian had just finished tending to her latest patient when Merlin entered the tent. She ran to the warlock like a flying arrow and almost leapt into his arms.

"Thank the gods you are safe," she cried as they embraced and their heads closed together. He held her in his arms, wiped away her tears and kissed her tenderly. A cheer went up. The king smiled in approbation, turned to the queen and raised her hand to his lips with a wink. Sir Gwaine clapped his friend heartily on the back, shook his hand and bowed in mock deference.

"Congratulations, Your Highness," he said, with a cheeky grin. "Merlin Emrys, Court Sorcerer and Prince of Nemeth. I like the sound of that."

Mithian took the opportunity to kiss Merlin again. "Oh, so do I, Sir Gwaine," she smiled through her tears. "So do I."

A momentary doubt assailed Merlin, as he feared he was committing a social solecism. He turned to the king. "Sire?" he asked anxiously.

Arthur's eyes rested on the warlock with warmth and affection. A slow smile lit up his face. "You have my blessing, Merlin," he said. "I wish you every happiness. No one deserves it more."

If anything could increase Merlin's joy it was this. I saw how Arthur's approval meant the world to him and was not surprised. I felt I had never met his like before and never would again. A true leader of men, who inspired loyalty, devotion and sacrifice. Many would rush to be his allies and embrace his vision of a better world.

The affection I felt for these young people tore at my heartstrings and brought tears to my eyes. I knew that we had at last found the answer. This generation, above all, these two men, Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys, would lead us by their example away from the darkness and misery of war to a new beginning. By sheer force of will, the terrible destiny had been averted – or at least delayed. They would leave a legacy worth remembering after all. Their feats and deeds would remain in the hearts of men and be remembered till the end of time. The land would breathe again, magic would be free once more, and the people united in an era of peace, happiness, and love.


End file.
